


In My Arms

by AllTheFeels



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Past Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, eliza being sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 13:43:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8669884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheFeels/pseuds/AllTheFeels
Summary: John takes one of Alexander's hands and brings it to his mouth, pressing his lips to the calloused, cracked skin.





	

He's freezing cold. The thick blanket draped over him is the only source of warmth, and naturally, his feet refuse to cooperate so he feels just the tiniest bit of iciness, enough that it's driving him mad.

Alexander groans, rolling over and covering his head with his arms, listening to the Baron snoring across the room. It's comforting, in an odd way; the same way John cursing wildly in the morning after he hits his head sitting up -it happens every morning without fail- is.

His little bed lays closest to the desk, pressed neatly against one chalky-white wall. John is just south of him, barely a foot beyond the end of his bed, but Alexander aches as though he is worlds away.

"John."

He falls silent for moments after permitting himself that one word, his fingers grazing his lips gently. John barely stirs, lifting a shoulder in an effort to get up before collapsing back down into bed.

Alexander sighs, and creeps out of bed, padding over to John's side. He pokes him awake just enough so that the other man can see it's him, then pulls up John's blanket, climbs into the bed, and curls into the other man. The Baron wouldn't tell if he found them sleeping side by side in the same bed, he did the same with his assistant. Besides, even if he did tell, Washington would smooth things over. He could afford to drum lesser men out of camp, but he needs his aides.

John takes one of Alexander's hands and brings it to his mouth, pressing his lips to the calloused, cracked skin.

Alexander's stomach turns. John's lips are cold. So cold, in fact, they are icier than the room itself and---

John's head shifts in his sleep, and suddenly Alexander sees it. Grey skin. Dead skin. Dead skin, because John is dead and dead and dead and dead and

"Alexander!"

A beat.

"Alexander!"

He blinks, groggy, and then she comes into view; her hair shining like ink in the moonlight, skin undisturbed and gentle, eyes asleep but her hands, her slim hands, ever awake.

She squeezes his bicep, mumbling, "You were crying again."

Eliza isn't angry, he knows that. She never gets truly angry, a difficult feat, especially given that she knows about John. She knows, and she doesn't judge, seemingly able to read that a part of her husband would always belong to John Laurens, as though the freckled man had reached inside of Alexander and stolen away one of his lungs.

Alexander would never truly breathe until John was with him again, and Eliza knows this without feeling a single pang of jealousy. Whenever her husband was called away on business, she knew the same feeling--- a hollow emptiness, a void within her chest. She would never be whole without Alexander.

"Let's sleep, angel," Alexander says, then pulls her to his chest, "I never sleep as well as when you are in my arms."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty kids, it's been a while since I properly looked at the floor plans from valley forge so if something is wrong please sue me a la Barry Benson.  
> Also let me know what you thought! This was a drabble based on the challenge of writing about a past relationship that ended badly (john died ?? in a rlly sad way like gen just wanted to draw turtles and u do this to him ?!!) in a non-sad light.   
> Also before any of y'all call me sappy for having Alex call Eliza "angel", he actually did call her that and also the last sentence of the fic is from one of his poems about her (she wore that one in a necklace until the day she died). Have fun suffering


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